


psychological dependency

by jessewrites



Category: Orphan Black (TV)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-18
Updated: 2014-05-18
Packaged: 2018-01-25 15:18:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 923
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1653227
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jessewrites/pseuds/jessewrites
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Good things came in small packages. Like pills. And Alison Hendrix. The pills were good in the numb-the-world, calm-your-feelings way that Beth liked. She liked to swallow them before she could think about what she was doing, let the world fade into a blur of lights and sounds and nothing that mattered.</p>
<p>Alison was the opposite.</p>
            </blockquote>





	psychological dependency

Good things came in small packages.

Like pills. And Alison Hendrix. (The soccer mom was somehow shorter than Beth. It didn't make any sense. But she liked it.)

The pills were good in the numb-the-world, calm-your-feelings way that Beth liked. She liked to swallow them before she could think about what she was doing, let the world fade into a blur of lights and sounds and nothing that mattered.

Alison was the opposite.

Alison woke her up, got her blood pumping and the adrenaline rushing through her veins. Alison sharpened her senses, made her more aware of everything. (Of the dumb thing she’d just said. Of the way she stuttered. Of how fast her heart was beating. Everything.)

And she kinda liked it.

Because Alison _cared_ , even if she showed it in weird ways.

Alison, for instance, hated yoga, and yet insisted that Beth meditate at _least_ once a week. She said it’d calm her down. (It didn’t. Recently, when she’d had this much time to think, it took merely seconds for her thoughts to drift back to Alison. Slightly irritating, but mostly nice. Nothing can cheer a boring day at work if not the thought of Alison’s lips.)

And she’d tried to make Beth drink coffee instead of popping pills. It again hadn't worked; but it had resulted in a rather fun night.

After a few months, Beth realized she hardly took the pills anymore. Alison was enough, with her dumb giggle- it was hard for Beth to get used to that giggle in her own voice, at first- and her stupid kisses that could make Beth nearly drunk and the way that she would call Beth every night to make sure she was okay and and and…. She realized that she couldn't deny it anymore, not even when Alison was too drunk to notice they were kissing.

Beth Childs was absolutely, irrefutably, unashamedly in love with Alison Hendrix.

It might, on second thought, have been a little self-centered (Beth didn't care).

She thought back to a phrase her therapist had used once or twice. Psychological dependency- the addiction to a behavior or action. She’d dumbed it down, assuming Beth “wouldn't get it”, she’d explained it as “being addicted to something that’s not a drug.” Beth realized that probably wasn’t anywhere close to the definition, but it was good enough.

She thought of the feeling in her chest when she drove Alison home, or when she had to leave Alison’s house before Donnie got home. It was like something was trapped, except it wasn't really _trapped_ , more like _sinking_ , fluttering and falling and not right. What felt right were the few nights she’d gotten to wake up next to Alison, the lazy smiles and the beginnings of bruises on her throat…those were the good days. The days where nothing else mattered and all the problems melted away until nothing was left except Alison.

Those were the nights that made her forget how screwed up her life was.

Beth wouldn't say she was addicted to Alison, but she was pretty damn close.

And now, as far as Alison was concerned, Beth was dead. She had taken herself from Alison’s world in a single night, ripped away everything they’d ever had with a single kiss. A goodbye, the best Beth could give, but Alison didn't know it.

It was for Alison’s own safety. Beth traced the scar behind her ear with her fingers. She couldn't let this happen to Alison. She couldn't let them get her. She thought of Alison’s laugh, something Beth found so hard to attain, of the somewhat innocence she still held.

They- DYAD - would ruin all of that. She thought of her own face in the mirror, the strength it took to smile without Alison. The way her eyes seemed dimmer than Alison’s, stolen from them the light, the attempt at happiness so obviously a fake.

She couldn't let that happen to Alison. Even if she was, for all intents and purposes, dead- Alison Hendrix would remain safe.

Beth had tried not to let Alison see her cry, and now, for a selfish moment, she was glad Alison wasn't there. She was glad Alison couldn't see how red her eyes were, or hear the racking sobs that shook her body.

She was glad Alison couldn't see how much Beth needed her. 

She thought about her therapist, and she realized that _psychological dependence_ fit pretty perfectly right now. Alison had always been there, and Beth had gotten used to her being there, and suddenly she was gone. She was in withdrawal, the same sort of thing she’d gone through when she’d given up the pills.

For Alison.

God, she was a wreck.

Beth Childs was dead, and she had to get over Alison. She had to get over the idea that she would ever see her again. She had to let go of the thought of Alison’s kisses. She had to get over Alison.

She took a deep breath, closing her eyes. Everything flashed before her, kisses and promises and everything Alison had given Beth. She’d never asked for anything. They were give and take, and Alison was give, always give.

Beth didn't deserve Alison’s optimism, her hope that everything could be okay. It never would be.

Beth wasn't religious, but she knew Alison was. Alison was a better person than her, that wasn’t a question. Beth didn’t deserve eternal paradise, never mind that she didn't believe in it. But. Still.

She hoped Alison, somehow, believed she was in heaven.


End file.
